I closed my eyes for a few seconds, perhaps a minute at most, and when I opened them, Lucie was gone. I ran out to find her, but she’s not anywhere in the station—and I’ve looked everywhere—and neither is my husband, Victor, who was supposed to wait for us right here.” I gestured toward the bench we were sitting on. “I’ve been running all over the station for fifteen minutes now, but I can’t find them. I’m alone, and we are going to miss our train to Vinh. We have to meet Victor’s cousin. It’s a very important trip, and now he and Lucie have disappeared. They’re gone.” My voice cracked again.
The stationmaster looked at me intently. “You say that you are looking for your husband and daughter? Victor and Lucie Lesage?” he said slowly.
“Of course!” I said, exasperation getting the better of me. “You just greeted us outside a half hour ago! Who else would I be looking for?”
He shook his head and laced his hands together. “But madame, I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he said, meeting my gaze. “I did greet you a half hour ago, as you said, but it was just you in the black car. Just you and your chauffeur. There was no husband and child. You were alone.”
Alone.
There was no husband and child. I was alone.
“No, Monsieur Dat. You are mistaken,” I said, shaking my head. “Of course they were with me. We are all journeying to Vinh together, as I said. To see Victor’s Michelin cousin.”
He looked at me with concern and repeated, “I am sure you were alone.”
“That can’t be,” I insisted. “You are not remembering correctly.”
I rested my heavy head in my hands, my vision blurring even more, and closed my eyes. “We traveled together to the station,” I repeated, feeling queasy. “Victor, Lucie, and I.”
I lifted my head with a jerk, propelled by a sudden idea. “Lanh will tell you!” I said loudly. “Please call my tai xe now. I insist. Phone our house. Lanh will have returned. And our servants saw us all off this morning. Please phone them,” I begged. “Ask for Lanh, or Trieu. One of them should answer straightaway.”
“Of course,” he said, standing up.
The man had to be wrong. He had to be. But then I thought of the blood I had seen pouring down the Annamite woman’s arms at the Nguyen house and Victor contesting my account. I thought of the poster I had seen displayed over the train timetables and glanced in that direction. The image of a hundred suns still wasn’t there. Then there was Red. Red, whom I was absolutely sure I had kissed. Yet he’d assured me I was very wrong, and why would a man like that deny a conquest? I bit my lip, my tears welling up. This couldn’t be happening again.
The stationmaster was walking back to me, and I could tell from his expression that he did not have good news.
“Did you phone, Monsieur Pham? Did you speak to Lanh? Or Trieu?” I asked anxiously when he was close.
“Yes, Madame Lesage,” he replied, his voice even. “I made the call myself and spoke to Madame Trieu. I’m sorry, but she said that she saw you off this morning, alone. That your husband and daughter are in Trang An for the day. To see the caves.”
“Caves! What are you talking about?” I cried out. “They are here, with me. Victor doesn’t have time to take Lucie to inspect caves. Please help me look again,” I said frantically. “Please.”
“Of course we can look again, Madame Lesage,” he said gently. “Perhaps they arrived in a separate car. Perhaps I just didn’t see them.”
I recognized the way he was staring at me, that look of feigned concern, when he was really trying to identify signs that I wasn’t quite right. That I was crazy. It was how everyone in that psychiatric prison in Switzerland had looked at me.
I stood up and shook my head.
“You’ve been very kind. I’m sorry to have been such a bother, Monsieur Dat,” I said, looking at his gold nameplate again. “You’re right about everything, I’m sure. I must just be remembering incorrectly. Perhaps I’m unwell.”
I turned around without thanking him and hurried out of the station. He didn’t follow me.
I could still feel Lucie’s touch and see the distress on her face when the shoeblack had collided with her. I wasn’t unwell. I wasn’t forgetting anything. My family had disappeared.